


Just Right

by plasticineking



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teachers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 21:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6346522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plasticineking/pseuds/plasticineking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John, though, felt as though the class were expecting something, expecting him to shout or jump up and down. He wouldn’t. He’s had people admiring his book before, not the right people, but people. He highly doubted she’d be the right person, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Right

“Do you know Rose Tyler, sir?” Professor John Smith looked at the seventeen year old boy in front of him. He had just marked their papers and wasn’t expected any one to come back with answers, let alone answers that was completely nothing to do with the paper he handed out. However, the name Rose Tyler flared something in the back of his mind; it was a good sounding name, a name that would sound wonderful coming out of his mouth.

“Can’t say I’ve heard of her, Tom, do you have a question about your paper?” He tried to distract the boy.

“She’s this hot new teacher, Sir, teaches my Media and Production classes, how can you miss her?” He grinned at John, which made the latter frown deeply behind his glasses. It was unusual for his students to talk to him like the way Tom was, let alone the murmurs of agreement coming from certain boys and girls in the classroom. It wasn’t that John was an overly strict teacher, he was open and even slightly over excited, but they never discussed the appealing looks of any of the teachers before.

“Not that this isn’t thrilling stuff, Tommy boy, but why are you talking to me about this?” He leant forward, hoping that, even though he was sitting and Tom was standing, the look in his eyes could make the young boy slightly nervous, maybe nervous enough to rethink his train of thought. Unfortunately for John, Tom seemed almost excited to say the next part.

“She has your book,” Tom spoke confidently. His eyes were wide, waiting from a reaction from his teacher.

“Excuse me?”

“You know the book you wrote, the one that you keep saying ‘nobody appreciates the complexity of it’ and it’s about string theory or something? She has it. On her table.” Some of the members of the class, John assumed the same that believed the teacher to be attractive, murmured again.

“Ah, well, Tom, I highly doubt she actually reads it I me-“

“The book marker moves,” The boy interrupted.

“I-it does?” John looked interested now, leaning forward on his desk.

“Yeah, and she has sticky notes sticking out on the pages and everything.”

“She makes notes? Well…” He sat back, aware that the whole class was looking at him now, “How come I’ve not heard of her?”

“She’s in block C and she’s only in half day Monday to Wednesday, and she’s not here Thursday, and she’s here all day Friday but-“

“I’m off on Fridays.”

“She said you’re like ships in the night,” Tom had sat back down now, realising that the conversation had spread across the whole classroom.

“Why would she say that?”

“Oh, well, see sir,” Jenny Thompson decided to join in the conversation, “We told Miss Tyler that you work here and she was real shocked like, didn’t have a clue and that’s when she said it. She was all gutted though sir, ‘cause she doesn’t think she’ll be able to meet you. Right fangirled she did.”

A slight blush appeared on his cheeks when he heard that. He had, however, released a few novels, fictional, under a pseudonym, but his real passion lay with the stars. He studied English in university, before going back to study astrophysics and getting his doctorate. He ended up teaching English. It wasn’t his ideal plan of life, he had hoped to become a scientist, explore the theories in his head, but jobs weren’t easy to come by, and he wasn’t going to snub a high paying teaching job, just because it wasn’t exactly what he wanted at that moment. His book was all about theories, his theories on space, string theory, time travel…it was basically as though he released a journal on all the inner workings of his brain. Reviewers generally loved it, but academically, his peers didn’t. They told him that it reads like the fiction it is, and that should he wish to release further work he should stay to what he knew.

John, though, felt as though the class were expecting something, expecting him to shout or jump up and down. He wouldn’t. He’s had people admiring his book before, not the right people, but people. He highly doubted she’d be the right person, anyway.

“Right, back to looking over your papers, see the mistakes I marked, raise your hands if you have any questions,” He told them all, not unkindly, but also a look on his face that told them all that the previous subject was dropped.

He opened his laptop on his desk and accessed the school’s moodle, searching for Rose Tyler. It was creepy, almost, the way he was doing it. He had no doubts that he could never work, really, for a high end scientific facility, he was easily distracted and even more easily tempted by different things. He should be marking other class’s papers; instead he was trying to gather information about a ‘hot new teacher’, although the hot had nothing to do with it. He adjusted his glasses and leaned in a bit closer. All that was next to her name was a few contact details, like her e-mail and classroom phone number, and some files gathered there for her lesson plans. There was no picture, of brief description of her – like there was on his. He run his hand down his face and looked over the laptop, thankful that his class were all reading and making notes from their papers.

John was sparked with an idea. He could go to her classroom. If what Tom had said was right, she shouldn’t be there… maybe she would have left her book behind, or some notes. He could feel a long forgotten feeling of itchy feet, and he needed to explore. Thursdays were usually a bit boring, he had two free periods after this class, so he should wait, but all thoughts go to the little bubble of excitement he feels in the pit of his stomach, and he’s standing, suddenly without even realising it. Slowly placing his laptop screen down, he picks up a pen and pockets it. He’s unsure why exactly he took a pen, even if there’s a part of him that’s whispering it’s simply because he wants to make her aware of his presence in her room.

“I have to pop out, keep the noise down, Mr. Jones has a test going on next door,” He smiled, briefly, at the absent minded nods of his students, none of them had any clue where he was going and it made it all that more exciting. He ignored the sensible part of him that he could almost literally feel roll his eyes.

Stepping out of the room, he took the quick way to block C, which also included walking politely through a computer room that was occupied by his friend, Donna, and her class. He nodded and apologised and managed to make it through in record breaking time. Donna, usually, being very eager to nose through what he was doing, seemed particularly blasé about it all, barely raising an eyebrow. He knew block C had more of the creative sections, such as media and art and graphic design, but what he didn’t know was which hall to go down. He managed to walk the right direction, and it was only a few moments before he came across her classroom. It was unlocked, as though someone was smiling down on him, and seemingly completely empty. No lights or computers were on, and when he looked over to the front of the classroom, he spotted his book.

It took a few strides before he made it to her desk, and with unsteady fingers, he picked the book up, marvelling in the weight of it. It was a heavy book anyway, but he liked to believe it was the colourful post-it notes sticking out from random pages of the book that made it that way. He opened up a random page, and smiled. She seemed to be writing notes on what things to further research, and even, adorably, questioning whether he was mad or brilliant. A few moments passed as he looked through the notes, finding her own opinions, much more interesting that what he himself had wrote, when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. It was a few piles of books on the side of the desk, worn-paper backs, obviously well read as well as enjoyed, his heart stopped briefly, when he spotted some of his fictional novels in the pile, as loved and well-worn as the others. She enjoyed his work, without even being aware that it was his. He looked back down at the heavy hardback book in his hand, a stray thought circled, and he wondered if maybe she saw something in this book that reminded her of the others she had read…

“Excuse me?” A voice interrupted his musings, he looked up at the shocked face of a woman walking out of the little storage room at the back of the classroom. She was blonde with huge whiskey brown eyes, and although shocked, her lips were tugged into a small smile. If this woman in denim dungarees and a grey t-shirt wasn’t Rose, then maybe he didn’t deserve to be called a genius.

“Rose Tyler,” He spoke, and oh he was right, it sounded perfect coming out of his mouth, as though it was a name he was made to say, “I-I mean, that is, are you…Rose…Tyler?” After a steady start, the fumbling decline was punctuated by the dropping of his own heavy book down on the desk.

“Yes, I am, yeah, Hi… Hello, sorry… It’s so surreal, the author of that book is holding that book in my classroom, it’s a bit mental,” She dropped the paperwork onto a table in the middle and rubbed her hands on her sides, rushing forward holding out a hand for him to shake. Her movements were awkward, as though she was doing just what she was expected to do, and not what she would usually do. He took her hand, and shook it twice, before slowly, purposefully so, sliding his away.

“I thought you weren’t in on Thursdays?” Was the first thing he said. It was a stupid thing, and he cringed slightly after he said it. It did, however, earn him a giggle and smile from the woman in front of him, and he was willing to do a lot more stupid things to see it again.

“Creeping in my classroom when I’m away, are you, Doctor Smith?” She gave him a tongue touched smile, and he honestly felt like pinching himself. It was ridiculous, and he hoped 100% real.

“It’s been a while since anyone’s called me Doctor,” He told her.

“That’s a shame, it’s suits you… Then again, so does James McCrimmon, wouldn’t you say?” She licked her lips after she spoke, but John barely registered it. His mind focussed on the words she had spoken.

“I knew you’d know… I saw the books, and I thought, I _hoped,_ that you would know…” He walked from behind her desk, and around to the front where she was. She turned to face him, a nervous smile on her lips. “You’re brilliant, Rose Tyler, a modern day Sherlock Holmes…” He paused, “Would it be weird if I hugged you?”

“No, not at all,” She answered quickly, barely blushing before he had her in his arms, her own arms wrapping tightly around him.

“What are you doing for the rest of the day?” He asked her, stepping out of the hug, but his hands remained on her waist.

“I’m not doing anything, you, however, are…” She placed her hands on top of his, he thought briefly it was to move them away, instead it seemed as though she was using her hands to ensure he’d keep them there.

“I have two free periods, and a sixth form class that’s done all their work, I’d really rather pick your brain…” He trailed the word brain out, for a moment he worried that it sounded as though he was implying something different altogether, but he gathered from the look she gave him, she wouldn’t have minded either way.

“Okay, you’re on… I’m warning you, though; I have a lot of questions.” She removed his hands from her waist and moved over to the table that had the papers she was previously holding, moving to her desk to grab his book and the keys to the classroom. It was the first time John had noticed them, and he almost felt like blushing. A regular Sherlock Holmes, he was not. They chatted as they exited her classroom, a brief look at his watch told him he had just under ten minutes before the end of class bell rung, and he needed to get back to his classroom before then… but instead of rushing, they took the long way back, talking and he was almost definitely sure flirting. They managed to get to his classroom in time, and he packed away at a speed and accuracy that was so unlike him, his class could only stare on in shock.

“Tommy, my boy,” He called, a cheer to him that wasn’t bizarre but definitely renewed, he threw the classroom keys to him, “Tell Mr. Jones that I’ve gone for the day and that the sixth form class can have my classroom to do other work, and to give them the keys to lock up…and to give the keys into reception. I’ll see you, Monday.” He let out a large grin and moments later was gone from the room, with little evidence to him even being there.

John walked down the hall with Rose for only a few seconds before the bell rung out and the halls were filling in with children. His own class were one of the first out, and Tom walked past him giving him a smile and nodding to Rose.

“Sir, Miss…” He said politely, although the grin on his face was anything but. John was embarrassed, and he was almost sure he would die because of it, when he heard her laugh, nudging his arm with hers as they continued to walk. He looked at her, half hiding behind her paperwork and his book with her post-it notes, and he laughed too. Turns out, she was exactly the right person.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this a while ago on a tumblr I made for fanfiction - that I deleted - and I just re-read it tonight and thought, 'awh, let's post it'. Any mistakes are my own, I hope you enjoyed!


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